


"I'll Burn Them Myself"

by Cadensaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cadensaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dan hates Phil's hideous pink plaid boxers and there is smut, that's really all there is</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'll Burn Them Myself"

**Author's Note:**

> blame @dizzy she puts up with me screeching about phan so well

It's hard for Dan to look at the camera when Phil pulls up his hot pink plaid boxers for PINOF 7. It's hard for him to actually look at the camera because there's a good reason for those boxers to be on the floor.

See, Dan had rewatched the first PINOF and been enjoying the memories of how excited he'd been with Phil and how midway through the filming, they'd had to stop because Dan's hormones had gotten the best of him and they'd wound up making out.

It had kind of been like a Pavlonian reaction, that he found himself wanting to kiss Phil, get him naked for a quickie before they do the filming of PINOF. It's not like they haven't wound up pretty much doing that for other collabs.

In fact, Dan could venture probably half the time they try and collaborate, at some point they wind up stopping filming to make out, to jerk each other off.

So Phil's busy setting up the camera when Dan comes in the room and Phil doesn't think twice about it, because Dan's supposed to be there anyways.

He's not expecting Dan to drag him down to the bed when the camera is precariously set up, not quite at the right angle, but Dan does. Dan kisses him and Phil kisses back and Dan's grabbing at Phil's ass.

“Reminds me of six years ago,” Dan says. “All of this. Can't believe how far we've come.” He's busy whispering mushy things in Phil's ear as he undresses Phil, taking off his shirt, biting at the junction of his neck and collarbone, and he's unzipping Phil's jeans.

Phil's gotten with the program and is eagerly pulling at Dan's clothes. “What, getting this out of our system so we don't have a repeat of the first year we did this?” Phil asks, catching on quickly.

“Mmhmm,” Dan confirms. He's pushing down Phil's jeans and touching boxers, getting ready to push them down, when he makes the mistake of opening his eyes and -

\- “Jesus christ, Phil, did you buy the most ungodly hideous pair of boxers you could find?”

They're hot fucking pink and plaid. It's like the worst of two worlds combined. He gapes at them and he thinks his libido drops 75% right then and there. Not completely, no, because Phil shirtless and without jeans is a sight to behold but for fucks sake his underwear are literally so embarrassing, so ugly, that Dan internally cringes on behalf of Phil's sake and thinks it's probably a good thing that Phil isn't shacking up with some bird on a whim ever because he can barely contain his own laughter, he can't imagine a girl would.

“Phil,” he says, voice sounding slightly strangled as he pushes back his laughter.

“Dan?” Phil asks, confused.

“Phil, we are not having sex – I can't take you seriously in those. Oh my god, I mean, even if you removed them I could still picture them on you. You need to seriously consider burning those.” Dan thinks his voice sounds like a strangled goose for how hard he's trying not to laugh.

Phil gives him a dirty, vaguely hurt look. “I like these boxers,” he declares. “They're fun!”

That's it, that's the last straw. Dan loses his composure. He starts laughing hysterically. “Take them off and get them out of my sight. Never wear those again if you want me to ever get physical with you.”

Phil huffs a noise at him. “You're so rude, Dan,” he proclaims. Dan's laughing still, eyes squinched shut, and when he opens them, he half-expects Phil to be naked like he's requested. “We're not having sex now,” Phil tells him, instead.

“What – oh, Phil, come on, just shuck those off and we'll forget I said anything about it, okay, they're hideous but just get over it,” Dan says. “You're really not turning down sex.”

Phil shrugs, flops out on his back. He reaches down his boxers and palms his erection. “Yeah, I am,” he says casually. Sometimes, Dan forgets that Phil can be as deliberate as hell. Right now, that's describing Phil to a tee as Phil untucks himself from his boxers, his cock hard and erect.

“Don't touch,” Phil says sharply. “You're going to watch and you don't get to touch because you made fun of me. Yourself or me, you don't get to touch.”

“Phil,” Dan says, surprised. “You're not actually mad at me, are you?”

Phil gives him a look. “I like these boxers, Dan! They're colourful and fun!” He strokes himself lazily, pulling, and Dan fixates on the way he does and his fingers itch. Phil can't possibly be serious about not touching.

He reaches over and slides his hand up Phil's thigh and totally, completely ignores the fact that he's about to start laughing when the ugly pink plaid fabric crinkles under his hand, when Phil swats his hand away.

“I said no touching,” Phil demands.

There's always been a sort of control that Phil's had over Dan. People think that Dan must be the kinkier of the two of them in bed, they speculate often that Dan's a power bottom or into wild shit. It turns out that they're wrong.

Phil is actually the kinkier of the two of them. He's the one who talked Dan into bringing a glass of ice cubes into the bedroom last week and seeing what happened when Dan dragged them down Phil's chest, where Dan found himself sucking in a breath at the same time as Phil, as Phil's cock twitched with apparent pleasure as the ice melted and burned into his skin, the horrible freezing chill overwhelming.

Phil had made Dan put a cube to his own skin, made Dan hold it on his wrist, where the skin was sensitive, as it melted and Dan had let out a small noise and flinched and pushed it away, asked how Phil could stomach it, and Phil had told Dan to put it on his stomach, right below his belly button, and Phil had stayed perfectly still as Dan had held the ice cube.

Phil had whined softly, his breath going out of him in a single exhale, and his abdomen had gone tight after half a minute, and his breathing had gone all funny and shallow, as a pool of water formed and the ice cube slid around, but he'd never told Dan to stop, not until Dan had pulled it back of his own decision.

Phil's the one who had told Dan to lie on his back on the bed, had positioned Dan, pulling him back until Dan's head had just hung off the edge, and Phil had told Dan to stay relaxed, to just breathe, he was going to see if Dan could deep-throat him.

It turns out that once Dan focused on anything but his gag reflex, he can. Phil had pushed his cock deep into Dan's throat and murmured his marvel at Dan, had actually stopped and gotten his phone for a photo that he took for his own private perusal later.

He'd shown Dan afterwards. Dan had stared at the way his throat swelled with the outline of Phil's cock down it. He'd barely been able to believe that he'd been capable of it. Phil had sent it to himself on his computer, saved it in three folders deep of privacy, password protected, deleted it off his phone.

Phil's the one who managed to somehow convince Dan that handcuffing him behind his back and making him ride Phil reverse-cowgirl style was a good idea. (Okay, that one had ended in Dan losing his balance and cracking his head on the floor as he fell so they were never doing that again.)

But Dan's not the kinky one, Phil is. Phil enjoys teasing Dan like he is now. Phil's jerking himself steadily, and when Dan reaches again, just out of curiosity, he gets smacked a little harder, a firm warning that Phil is deadly serious.

“You don't get to touch,” Phil informs him. “You made fun of my boxers and told me I should burn them so now you just have to watch me get myself off and I'll deal with you later.”

Dan doesn't dare press a hand to the inside of his thigh where his own cock lays hard and heavy. He doesn't dare risk seeing what Phil might do then. He just tries to regulate his unsteady breathing as he watches Phil jerk himself off.

When Phil's getting close, he finally  _does_ peel his boxers off and drops them on the floor. “Don't want to get them dirty,” he says. He flops back out, naked. Dan is fucking going to die if he doesn't get to touch Phil at some point today, later, after he's somehow gotten Phil to forgive him for managing to offend him over his boxers.

He still can't look at them, they're so fucking ugly, and he'll laugh if he does, even for as built up as he is with watching Phil.

Phil manages a strangled noise to warn Dan that he's about to come and Dan watches as Phil jerks himself through it and Dan aches. He's going to have to go to the loo and have a wank himself in about two minutes.

It's like Phil's reading his mind, though, because as Phil lies there, breathless, he mutters, “You're waiting until after we film for any kind of release.”

Dan almost hates him a tiny fraction of a bit. Phil gets up, bends over naked in front of Dan, as he finds clean boxers to put on, redresses.

Later on, when they're filming, Dan has half a mind to wonder if people are going to be curious why Phil's boxers are on the floor and it's no big deal for Dan to see that apparently. Phil, pretending to read a question, says, “Did you know that I think I'm going to finger-fuck you until you come in about half an hour?”, not looking at the camera or at Dan, instead looking at his phone casually.

Dan  _knows_ that will be edited out. He also knows he might not make it through this video if Phil says anything like that again. He might actually just completely be undone.

Somehow, he makes it. He makes it through fucking salsa and nacho orgasms, he makes it through the fucking shrieking duck, he makes it through friendship yoga and a trust fall and finally when Phil turns off the camera, he waits approximately two seconds before saying, “I swear to god, Phil, if you don't get me off, I'm going to actually die.”

“Do you apologise for the boxers?”

“What –  _no, I maintain those need to go in a firepit and die,_ ” Dan says insistently. Phil nods.

“Well, I'll still get you off, because I'm not an arse, but you're wrong, and I'm going to wear them even more now, just to bother you.”

“I'll burn them myself,” Dan mutters, even as Phil spreads him out on the bed and undresses him again, slides two fingers into his mouth to slick them up with spit.

“Burn them and you're never getting sex again,” Phil warns. Dan actually believes him. So he shuts up and he lets Phil finger him and yeah, he comes with Phil sucking him off and two fingers up his ass and he doesn't care that he's shamelessly begging for it.

He still hates the fucking boxers.


End file.
